


If At First You Don't Succeed... Do It Seven More Times Until You Do!

by ragewerthers



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 04:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10586007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragewerthers/pseuds/ragewerthers
Summary: "The most effective way to do something... is to do it." - Amelia Earhart





	

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt off Tumblr from unionjackpillow!

Across the airfield a soft fog played over the runway, the sun just starting to crest over the trees.

A place with a purpose that is, for a moment, quiet can seem like a dreamworld.

For one man it was.

Martin Crieff sat in his van taking in the scene before him. The lone hanger which held the vessel he would soon captain, the portacabin where he would be able to instruct and conference with his crew, the...... well that was it... but it was wonderful! It was all he had ever hoped for and more than he had started to believe he would get.

Most of Fitton was probably either still asleep or just having their first cups of coffee, but not Martin. He'd already had three and a half cups of coffee by 5:00 a.m. this morning and was like a live wire. He knew a captain needed their rest (12 hrs worth he would tell you if asked), but even so this was an incredibly important day and he wanted it to be perfect. He'd been instructed to be at the airfield at 6:00 a.m. sharp so there was much to do beforehand.

The previous night he'd laid out his captains uniform, polished the gold braiding on his hat, polished his shoes, polished every bit of gold braiding on his hat _again_ and then ran over the flight manifesto for the Abu Dhabi trip. After falling asleep at 7:32 p.m., as difficult as it was, he popped awake like a daisy before his alarms went off at 3:00 a.m. and had been going ever since.

As Martin sat there in his van, which rumbled and sputtered like a smoker having a coughing fit, he kept thinking over what he had to do today.

_Remember the weather patterns coming in over the Persian Gulf._

_It's a cargo flight so pre-flight checks should be completed after everything is secure in the hold._

_All crew should have their bags safely stowed on board along with all proper paperwork for items and all licenses for personnel._

The last one made his heart drop for a moment. _His license!_

He'd checked at least three times before he'd left his attic, but it had been 30 minutes since he'd last laid eyes on it and it could be anywhere!

Quickly reaching into the back of his van he hauled his overnight bag to the front and quickly looked through the outside pocket. It always did have that falter zipper that he'd never got fixed! What if it had slipped out?! What if...

"Oh god... there you are," he whispered in relief, pulling out the little card. His heart still raced in his chest as his fingers held onto the precious piece of plastic that well and truly marked him as a pilot.

This was really happening. This was really taking place in real time.... for real.

Martin looked up again, eyes once more scanning over the airfield. How long had he worked to get here? How many hours had he put in studying every night, eyes growing tired and sore as he poured over every flight manual he could get his hands on? Not to mention the hours spent working his man with a van job to save up every coin he could to take that test? And hadn't that been a trial by fire. Retaking the test over and over and over again until his self esteem and heart felt so battered he wondered why he kept going. Yet somehow.... somehow he'd finally made it here. To his dreamworld.

Never had Martin felt more proud and now that he was here.... never had he felt more at home.

The sound of cars pulling up on the gravel next to his van startled him from his reverie and he cleared his throat, tucking his license back in the bags outer pocket. He stepped out of the van, bag in hand and was quickly met with a rather bouncy and giddy looking man that had him pressed back up against his van in an instant.

"Oh! You must be Martin! Mum has told me so much about you! Well... not much because we've only just met and your interview was only about twenty minutes? But you can learn a lot about a person in twenty minutes! Crickey, imagine how much we'll learn on this flight all the way to Abu Dha-....,"

"Good lord, Arthur. Did you drink coffee this morning or just chew the beans whole?" Douglas drawled, stepping out of his Lexus and swinging his own bag over his shoulder in an almost effortless gesture. "Don't let him frighten you.... Martin, was it? He's always excited to meet new people...... and also people he's met before. He just likes people to be honest, but once you let him sniff your palm and he gets used to your scent he should calm down."

"I'm not a puppy, Douglas! I'm a person.... obviously," Arthur said with an exasperated little roll of his eyes and huff, though the wide smile still remained on his face. He looked back at Martin and thumbed toward Douglas. "He must not've had his coffee yet this morning. Thinking I'm a puppy.... honestly." Arthur chuckled, shaking his head and starting to follow the First Officer to the portacabin. He paused a moment and looked back at the captain who was still standing near his van, hands clutching his bag like a first year holding his lunchbox on the first day of school.

"Aren't you coming, Skip?" he asked, the question causing Douglas to stop his trek to the warmth of the portacabin to turn and look at the man curiously.

"Martin? I promise that you really don't have to let Arthur sniff you.... it was just a helpful suggestion," Douglas said, a slight smirk on his face.

Martin looked between the two of them. This.... this definitely wasn't what he thought his dream was going to be if or when it came to fruition, yet..... it was his and nothing could change how proud he was to be here.

"Yes... no! I mean... yes, I'm coming and no... that's not a helpful suggestion, but thank you all the same, First Officer Richardson," Martin said, standing to his full height and starting to walk toward the portacabin with the little group.

Douglas raised his eyebrows at that, standing a little straighter himself, a slight sparkle in his eyes. "My apologies, _Sir_. I didn't realize our captain wasn't a fan of helpful suggestions which I... the lowly first officer, am generally tasked with giving," he said in his best unsarcastic, yet woefully sarcastic, voice.

Martin huffed and narrowed his gaze at the man. "In flight and during crisis. Not when meeting with the crew on the first morning!" he argued.

"Meeting Arthur _is_ a crisis," Douglas said innocently, causing Martin to scowl a bit more on the stewards behalf.

Arthur looked between the two as they continued to bicker all the way to the door, following behind them like the puppy he definitely wasn't. "I think.... we're definitely learning a lot about each other. And it hasn't even been twenty minutes! Just think about what we'll learn on the flight!"


End file.
